


The Mile High Club

by angryschnauzer



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Mile High Club, Pudding, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:32:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3640332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryschnauzer/pseuds/angryschnauzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tom flew back to England after months of filming I Saw The Light in America, anything could have happened on his flight...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mile High Club

Jesus you were tired. You’d been working nonstop since the start of the year, shoot after shoot stateside with the rare weekend where you had been able to jet back to England for a weekend, but with jet lag and the knowledge you would only be leaving in a few days time it hadn’t been enough to settle and relax.

As you dragged your weary body through LAX Airport the paparazzi trailed you, although you wished they’d leave you alone, you smiled and shook their hands without stopping, pulling your guitar case along. The sooner you were on your flight the better. When the check in desk came into view you’d never been so pleased to see the flowing ribbon emblem, its Red, White and Blue shining like a beacon through the lights of the terminal. Greeting the staff at the first class desk you pleasantly chatted as they checked your bags, before handing your boarding pass and escorting you to the first class lounge.

As you waited for the flight the waitress bought you a pot of tea. Not just a cup or a mug, a pot of tea. British tea. Specially flown in each day on the westbound incoming flight. Stewed properly in a teapot, tea strainer, chilled milk. Going through the ceremony of stirring, pouring and straining, adding the milk, watching the amber liquid turn opaque as the milk amalgamated with the brewed liquid. You could smell home, feel the biting cold wind that was waiting for you, the mushy leaves on the pavements. Sipping the hot liquid you settled back into your seat and could feel the year’s tension start to ebb out of you.

The flight was called and you finished your tea, gathering your belongings and making your way to the gate. Soon you were settled into the luxurious seat in first class. They’d really done a good job on these new aircraft, you almost had your own private ‘pod’, your own window, a seat that had a screen that went round it, and that could flatten down into a full length bed. Well, full length for someone not quite as tall as you, but still, it was a hundred times better than economy that you’d started your career flying. Soon you were settled, eye mask on, earphones in, and sleep arriving very quickly, so quick you didn’t even notice the flight had departed.

What seemed like minutes later your arm was being very lightly shaken;

“Sir....sir... (Ahem)... Mr Hiddleston... we’ll be serving dinner shortly”

Pulling yourself out of your slumber you lifted the mask to see a beauty before you. Looking into the chocolate brown eyes of the stewardess you thanked her as you pulled yourself up, your eyes instinctively glancing down her blouse, before guiltily raking them back up again quickly to her face;

“Thank you Miss” Clearing your throat and hoping you weren’t blushing too much. You raised your seat back to upright and tidied the little table so that they could bring your meal. Soon you were served and it tasted divine, a credit to the English cooks that were on board. Not that you disliked American food, but to taste British food cooked in the British way made you feel as if you were on home soil already. Soon it was time for pudding – not dessert, pudding – and the stewardess came around with the trolley;

“Good evening again Sir!” she said in a chirpy voice; “Can I interest you in a little something sweet as afters?”

Oh god yes you thought and your mind was not on the treats that the trolley contained. Control yourself Tom. Its pudding, your favourite part of the meal and as you looked over the trolley your mouth watered.

“This evening we have Clementine Cheesecake – English not New York Style – with a Raspberry Coulis, Chocolate Soufflé, or Spotted Dick with Custard” she said with a polite smile.

“Oh...err... I have to choose?” They all sounded amazing and made your mouth water.

“You can have seconds” she said with a whisper and a smile

“In that case, can I start with the Chocolate please?” Watching as she served you a vision of cocoa, oozing sauce. As you tucked in it tasted divine, sweet yet bitter, light yet dense. You could have sworn you heard angels singing as you tasted it. All too soon it was gone, and like a eager school boy you peered out of your little cubby hole to see if the Stewardess was yet to do the second round. Shortly she spotted you and walked over;

“Enjoy?”

“Oh yes, it was divine!” you said enthusiastically

She smiled at you, her red lips curling; “What would you like next?” as she cleared away your plate.

Deciding to go traditional; “Spotted Dick please Miss?” trying hard not to blush as the words came out.

“Oh good choice Sir!” she served up a considerable portion for you; “I do like a nice bit of dick.... Custard?”

Was she flirting with you? Realising she was poised with the jug of steaming liquid you replied;

“Please.”

Watching as she slowly poured the thick liquid over the steaming pudding your eyes again left the safety of the plate and strayed to her chest, you could have sworn there was a button now undone that hadn’t been before. Your boyish side got the better of you and before you knew it you were flirting back;

“So Miss, are you keen on a nice portion of Dick?”

Oh Jesus H Christ, if you got away with that it’d be a miracle. You watched as she grinned and placed your plate down onto the table, before leaning towards you;

“Actually I prefer the custard” and with that stood up and gently wiped her finger along the spout of the custard jug, before raising it to her mouth and sucking the pale liquid off. For a moment you just stared at each other, before she wished you an enjoyable meal, making her way down the aisle back to the kitchen.

Wow. That was a first. And you were now sitting there rather uncomfortably where your own dick had started to grow hard. Glancing around you noticed for the first time that the cabin was only half full, with the seats next to yours empty. To ease your comfort you grabbed a blanket from the side pocket of the chair, and surreptitiously laying it over your lap, you unbuttoned your fly, lowering the zip of your jeans and therefore reducing the pressure that had been pressing down on you rather uncomfortably. Fidgeting in your seat you angled your legs so that it wasn’t as obvious, picking up your plate and tucking into the pudding. It was divine. It reminded you of school dinners at Eton, old English establishment at its best. All too soon it was finished, scraping the last remnants from the dish before setting it down onto the table.

Soon sleep was calling, sheer exhaustion was taking over, and as if instinctively the crew lowered the cabins lights. One of the stewards did the rounds collecting up the last plates, so you reclined your seat, switched off the overhead light, and pulling the blanket further around you settled back, soon to drift into a light slumber.

You weren’t sure how much later you were awoken, but the gentle swish of clothing brushing past your hand stirred you. Glancing up your saw your stewardess as she quietly checked on her travellers. On her return trip down the aisle she spotted that you were awake;

“Is everything ok Sir?” she quietly whispered, her hand straying to your knee as she lent close. Those immoral thoughts were entering your mind again, and as you stared up at her you instinctively wetted your lips, your tongue darting out; “Are you comfortable enough?” she continued.

A sly grin spread to your own face; “Just about Miss, but I don’t think these seats were designed for someone as long as myself” as you shifted in your seat.

You watched as she glanced around, before stepping into your little pod, and pulling the screen around so that the pair of you were hidden from view.

“I’m sure we can do something to make your flight a little more comfortable” she was now straddling your legs, her skirt stretched between her legs and she leant forwards, her lips inches from your own. You were expecting her to kiss you, but she paused where she was, pulling her skirt up a little more to allow her legs wider, she then reached for the bed controls, extending it fully so that she was now kneeling on your legs, her hands going to rest of the tops of your thighs. With a sly grin on her face she lowered the blanket, looking up at you and arching one eyebrow when she saw that you were already unzipped.

Not saying a word her hands slid up your thighs, squeezing your muscles as they head further towards your crotch. You watched breathlessly as she finally reached your fly. Pulling at the fabric a little you shifted your hips to allow her to lower your jeans. Your boxers were now stretched obscenely over your aching dick, you didn’t usually wear any but after months of incessant nagging from Luke and his PR team, plus the knowledge that London was going to be a lot colder than LA, you’d taken their advice on board. Turning your attention back to your Stewardess you watched as she slipped her fingers over the elastic and pulled them down, allowing your dick to spring free, proud and upright as it quietly slapped your stomach.

Watching silently as she wrapped one hand around it, you held your breath as she lowered her lips to you, her tongue darting out and lapping at the pre-come that had pooled at the tip. Oh god that was amazing. You watched as she pursued her lips before pushing them over the tip, sliding down onto your shaft as her hand grasped the hard shaft. Using her other hand to steady herself she started to bob up and down, her tongue working overtime on your ridges and veins. Letting your head tip back to the seat, your hand instinctively resting on the top of her head.

Soon she was working up quite a pace, pistoning up and down, somehow managing to remain silent throughout. You bit your lip to suppress your own groans, but unable to control your breathing as it sped up. Soon your other hand rested on her head too, and instinctively you were controlling her head and her speed, fucking her mouth as you enjoyed the hot wetness of her lips gliding over you. You could feel the tremors within you signalling that you were close. The final thing that sent you over the edge was when she removed her hand from your shaft and rested both hands on your thighs, allowing you to pump even deeper, feeling the tip of your dick brushing against her throat. Oh god that was it. She’d sensed what was coming and pulled back just a touch, allowing your hot seed to spurt into her mouth, swallowing as you emptied yourself. Somehow remaining silent throughout you finally shuddered your last spasm into her as she held herself over you, taking every last drop you had to offer.

Once you’d finally finished you watched as she sat upright, using a delicate finger to catch a last drop as it left your softening dick, raising the finger to her lips and sucking the liquid off in the same way she’d done with the custard hours earlier. Allowing you to catch your breath, she silently pulled your jeans and boxers back up your thighs, before gently resting the blanket back over you.

“I hope Sir can now relax for the rest of his flight” she said with a smile as she hopped silently off the bed, pushing back the screen, and righting her own uniform in the darkened isle, before pulling the screen back again.

Well, yes, you were pretty sure that was the best way to relax full stop, and as you drifted off to sleep, a small smile spread over your lips.

All too soon you were being woken again, and as you watched the cabin lights slowly illuminate you knew the flight was soon to be over. Pulling up the window blind you could see the early morning sunrise breaking over your homeland, the ground white with frost, sparkling as the sun’s rays hit the trees and buildings.

The captain’s announcement to raise the seats was soon heard, and buckling your seatbelt you remembered you were still unzipped, so took the opportunity to make yourself decent. Soon the landing gear was down and Heathrow was within your sights. As the aircraft descended onto the tarmac you felt a little shiver to finally be back on home soil. Waiting patiently as you taxied to the gate, it was only a few minutes before you were allowed to leave your seat, gather your belongings and make your way to the exit.

As the crew lined up to say goodbye you thanked each of them, before finally seeing your Stewardess at the door, helping passengers with the small step.

“Thank you Sir, I hope you had an enjoyable flight” she said with a professional smile.

You smiled back from behind your dark glasses; “Thank you Miss. Very enjoyable” and made your way up the corridor to claim your luggage.


End file.
